The Reason I Stay (17 page)

U
p until last Friday, I lived a perfectly content life. Nothing was too boring or exciting, too happy or sad. All of my energy was focused on Kodee, working hard, and saving money so I could leave this place and go see the world. But then Matt showed up and made me feel all the feels—literally, all of them. In seven days I’ve felt outrage, lust, hope, jealousy, intrigue, peace, happiness, confusion, disgust, amazement, annoyance, amusement, and everything in between. It’s as if I’ve been riding a rollercoaster that takes me to my highest, and plunges me to my lowest, and though it’s unpleasant at times, feeling this much is also addictive.

So, it seems fitting that today, exactly a week since meeting Matt, my life feels like a trip to Six Flags.

I wake up on such a high that for the first time in a year, I voluntarily skip my Friday chocolate-chip pancake breakfast. I could easily blame that decision on sleeping little to no hours, and waking up late for work, but in all honesty, the reason for it is a lot less practical—and a lot more stupid. I want to look pretty today. I want Matt to think I’m pretty.

Mouth stuffed with a bagel, I walk to work with a little extra pep in my step. The world just seems better today; the sky is bluer, the flowers are prettier, and the sun is warmer. It’s like I’m a musical number away from a Disney movie, and that magical mood carries on for the first six hours of my shift. I try my best not to think of Matt, which is harder than it seems, and instead focus on taking orders, being nice to my customers, serving food, and nothing else.

And then one p.m. rolls around, and the rollercoaster starts its descent.

I never realized how much energy a girl could spend waiting for a boy, but it’s like a workout. For the last couple of hours of my shift, every time the front door opened, my heart started to thump really fast, just to free-fall down to my stomach every time someone who wasn’t Matt walked in. It was so incredibly aggravating, and by the time Anna comes in to relieve me of my duties at three p.m., my mood is so sour that I’m seriously considering burning The Jukebox down. And all so I don’t have to think about Matt again.

But then, just as I’m returning from the locker room with my purse, the rollercoaster takes another turn.

Matt is standing by the hostess stand, his back against the wall, and hands in the front pockets of his jeans. He’s wearing a white and burgundy baseball tee, and his hair is pulled back in a haphazard knot behind his head, leaving only a few strands to frame his face. Gorgeous doesn’t feel like a good enough description for him, yet I can’t find a better one.

I’m halfway to him when his ever-confident eyes zero in on me. His lips—those lips that fit perfectly around mine—curl in a smirk and I wonder if he, too, is thinking about last night. The way his gaze sways between my eyes and lips tells me he is. It makes me smile, at least until I’m standing in front of him. Then a frown replaces my smile, and I throw my hands on my hips, looking at him through annoyed eyes.

“Now you show up?”

Completely ignoring the scowl on my face, he bends over and kisses my cheek. “I’ve missed you, too. But you said you were working till three.”

I’m not going to lie—hearing that he missed me warms my heart, but that “too” only deepens my frown. I raise a brow at the cocky bastard. “Exactly, and it’s ten past. I’m going home.”

His smirk lifts higher on one side, and he shakes his head. “The hell you are. We have a date.”

“We do?” I ask, amused.

With an enigamatic smile in place, Matt gives me a single nod. “Yep.”

“And when did I agree to it?”

“Last night. I suggested we have breakfast together, but you said it was too early for that, and we agreed I’d see you at lunch. Please tell me you remember it.”

As much as I don’t want to, I can’t help the stupid grin that is forcing its way into my face. “Of course I do, but you never specified this lunch would be a date.”

“It was implied,” he says, as if it’s the most obvious thing on Earth.

“You come here every day for lunch. How was a date implied?”

His eyes gleam with amusement as he stares at my face. He tucks his hair behind his ear and I smile as he says, “Will you always make a point in giving me a hard time?”

“Probably. And you said you like that I’m not easy.”

Matt laughs, and touches his hand to my elbow. It makes me think about last Sunday, and how blindsided I was by his touch. I feel like that again, but this time it’s for a completely different reason.

Without breaking eye contact, he slides his hand down and traces a circle on the inside of my wrist before continuing until the pads of our fingers touch. In a low, sexy voice he asks, “Lexie, will you go out on a date with me?”

Despite the lump in throat, I manage a semi-steady voice. “I’d love to.”

I try to pull some more air in so I can tell him that this date won’t be happening today, since I have plans, but he curls his fingers around mine, brings my hand up to his lips, and delivers a lingering kiss to the back of it. Before pulling his mouth away, he looks up at me through impossibly long lashes. All thoughts of going to Tanie’s house to help decorate slip right out of my mind as my entire body warms up.

He turns around and signals to Anna, who smiles and looks at me funny as she approaches. Anna and Matt talk, but I pay no attention to it. I’m too preoccupied with taking the breath I’ve been neglecting since Matt’s fingers met mine. I look up at his smiling face as we follow Anna to booth nine. Being here in this situation with Matt is like an out-of-body experience. I’m aware that I’m living this moment, but it’s all too surreal.

Once we finally reach the table, Anna gives me a knowing glance and walks away, leaving us alone. Instead of sitting down, we stand in front of the booth, leaning our legs against the tabletop, holding hands and not saying anything. There’s a pensiveness in the unblinking way that Matt looks at me. It makes me feel important in a way that I’ve never felt before. It also makes the silence a little too much.

I mentally shake myself awake and think of Tanie, my lifelong best friend, and of the whole Wolf family who have been a family to me as well, and of how I can’t cancel on them. That gives me the strength to speak. “I think it’s important to clarify that the date won’t be happening today.”

He tilts his head and raises a brow. “Is that so?”

“Mm-hmm.”

“Damn,” he mutters, but doesn’t hide the smirk dancing on his lips. “I was looking forward to the end of this date. Now that I know how your lips feel, I’m dying to know how they taste.”

Oh my God!
My heart speeds like a freight train in my chest, because I want to taste his lips too. I want it more than I’ve wanted anything else in my life. But I’m not ready to let him know that just yet, and this can’t be a date. I have no time today, so I tease him. “That was so cheesy. For one of
those
guys, it was seriously weak.”

He stares at me for a couple of seconds, and then bursts into laughter. So I continue, “What will it be next? Do you know what's on the menu? Me-n-u.”

Still chuckling, he suggests, “How about, are your legs tired? Because you've been running through my mind all day.”

“Pathetic.” I shake my head. “Besides, lunch dates are something you do with family and childhood friends, not with someone you want to eventually see naked. Besides, I’m tired, wearing my uniform, and at my place work. If this is a date, it’ll be the worst first date in the history of ever.”

He cocks a brow. “C’mon. A friend of mine had a girl throw up in his mouth. That’s the worst first date ever.” And now it’s my turn to laugh, a real throw-your-head-back-and-snort kind of laugh. When I look back at him, he’s got a really intense look in his eyes as he takes a deep breath and touches my hair. After clearing his throat, he adds, “Besides, you look beautiful in that uniform, and the food here is great. That’s an okay date, at least.”

“See, that’s better . . . honest and full of yourself.” He winks, and I’m pretty sure I blush. “But this will be my first date in three years; it has to be better than an
okay
quick lunch.” As soon as the words come out, I wish I could swallow them back. That’s way too much information.

We stare at each other in silence for a while, and I completely forget that we’re just standing beside a table in the middle of The Jukebox like idiots. I also don’t care. For the first time, I don’t care if the restaurant is full or empty. I don’t care if the nosey folks of Jolene are staring a hole in my back, or if I’ll wake up to a world of gossip tomorrow. I even stop caring about arriving late at the Wolfs’. All I care about is this moment.

Matt slides the hand he has on my hair down my arm until it reaches my waist. With a bow of his head, he kisses my cheek before letting go of me to slide into his seat. “How about we call today a test-drive? We’ll take this thing for spin, and see if committing to a date will be worth it or not.”

“You think it won’t be?” I ask, genuinely concerned, and take a seat across from him. And just like that I agree to this test-drive.

He lifts a brow, and tilts his head. “Of course I think it’ll be worth it. I wanted a date for today, didn’t I? But you’re the first girl I’ve ever officially asked out on a date. Actually, you’re the first girl I’ve ever taken out on a proper date, so my expectations are pretty damn high.”

That admission shocks, worries and thrills me, all in one swoop. It shocks me because he’s a good-looking, sweet-talking man who admitted to not having problems with women—and I believe him, because I have a magical thing called eyes. It worries me because his experience, when combined with never asking a girl out on a date, puts said expectations in a range I’m not sure I’m ready to fulfill—at least not in the near future. And finally, it thrills me because being a first to a guy like him is a pretty freaking huge deal.

I try to take the edge away from my voice and make it playful, but I’m not sure I achieve that. “Uh-oh! Now you got me nervous. You should probably tell me what those expectations are. That way we can better assess if you’ll end up disappointed or not.”

“Okay, I like this game.” The twinkle in his eyes as he slouches on his seat tells me that whatever is about to come out of his mouth will be meant to tease me. “Let’s start with the most obvious expectation. Kiss, yay or nay?”

My full response to his question would be “Oh my fucking God, yay!” But I manage to let out only the fifth word.

He gives me a smug smile, and shoots off another question. “Touching me inappropriately with your foot under the table?”

My face heats up with a blush that is more related to the mental image than to embarrassment. “Depends on how much alcohol you manage to get in me.”

“Really?” he asks, with an arched brow. My only reply is a laugh. “Mm-hmm . . . interesting. Should I ask Anna for a pitcher of beer, and some shots?”

I shake my head. “Test-drive, not a date.”

“Crap. Okay, ending the night naked?”

“It depends on the date, but if this was a date, the chances would be pretty high. Like, seventy-five percent.”

Matt lets out a puff of air. “Oh, c’mon. That’s not high, that’s low as dirt. You should be squirming and jumping over the table by now.”

Because I’m dumb, I squirm, visibly. Because he’s smooth as butter and is probably having way too much fun with this, he smirks, but doesn’t comment on it. I’m glad, and then he narrows his eyes. “Was it that cheesy line? Did I blow it there?”

I really want to laugh, but I don’t. I just look at him though my best innocent gaze, and lift my shoulders as I nod. He shakes his head, his lips dancing with mirth. “Good to know. From now on, I’ll stay away from that mistake. This test-drive thing is good. By the time we say good night, I’ll have the road map to getting into your pants.”

The cocky, teasing tone in which he says that makes it impossible to hold my laughter in. Although he chuckles a little, he mostly watches me laugh with this really intense look in his eyes. Out of the blue, and before I can give him a smart-ass comeback, his lips move.

“I love your laugh.” The words are like an afterthought, like something he didn’t really mean to say, and just came out. They also do funny things to me—like make my mouth dry as a desert, and my body just as warm. He tucks his hair behind his ear and, in his normal voice, adds, “Can I expect you to laugh at my jokes during our date? Even at the ones that are not that funny?”

“Probably, but there’s a ninety-nine percent chance that I’ll point out the not-so-funny jokes.”

“I can live with that. What I can’t live with is awkward first-date talks about cheating boyfriends, all the many things we have in common, and all that crap. I’d much rather talk about whatever, and hear you laugh. Your thoughts . . .?”

“Thank God!” I reply emphatically, with wide eyes. “I have absolutely no interest in talking or thinking about exes, especially on a first date. Besides, those talks are completely pointless, unless you have a few more dates, and end up having a relationship. But here’s the problem: by the time you know all that crap about the other person, you find them so freaking boring you give up on getting to know them. So unless you’re an ax murderer intent on chopping me to pieces, or some other creepy thing like that, I’m cool with the past for now.”

Matt looks at me with a smile and unblinking eyes. It makes me wonder what he’s thinking about. Before he can say anything, Anna stops by, asking if we’re ready to order. I order a spicy burger with fries and a beer, which makes the amazement in Matt’s eye deepen. He requests the same, we thank Anna, and she walks away.